Zamani Za Vita
by Sulkie Wolfen
Summary: Zamani Za Vita, Vitani. It's special!


**Zamani Za Vita**

Heloo again! 'Tis I, sulkenwolfpup! The title of this fic? It means "at the time of the war," which I thought was a fitting title, saying as Vitani's name means just about the same thing.

As you may have guessed, though I loathe Simba's Pride I _adore _Vitani, so I'm writing a nice little ficcy about her xD

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Under the rule of Zira were two kinds of lionesses; those insanely loyal to their former ruler and thus in business with the hate-scathed lioness, and the others. The others? Well, more like other. For there was only one.

And that one was I. Vitani. Small, skinny, stupid, brainlesss, worthless Vitani. Vitani of the time of war.

"Take care of yourself, Vitani," my fake mother would always say, "remember, you are named for zamani za vita, a special term indeed."

Special? More like, loathesome. For I hated the term with everything in me, and beyond. "Zamani za vita Vitani, zamani za vita!" My 'brother' Nuka used to tease me with this doting words, twirling fingers in his ears and tongue lolling.

I'd always kick dirt into his features, then strut off, leaving him behind for eternity.

That's what he needs. Someone to leave him. Maybe that'd teach him the true meaning of unhappiness.

Oh, I'll give it to him! I'd leave him in a heartbeat, if only I could. I can tell he has more for me than what meets the eye, than that teasing "zamani za vita," but he never would admit it — not for a million zebras.

He's afraid, that brute is. That old bloke is afraid to admit it, but he really does love me. Like he could deny it! Ha! As if!

Besides, like I'd ever want him to deny it. I've come to dwell on the fact that he does, indeed, have feelings for me. Not that I really believe it, but hell it'd be nice to.

Ha, look at me now. Tellin' ya all I got left, those stupid emotions that make me worthless Vitani. Zamani za vita, Vitani! Zamani za vita! That's all I am anymore — driven to insanity by my emotions. Damn, that sounds so much like a story I've heard before.

The story of my father.

Scar? A dodo, yes, stupid enough to fight for the throne. Like he wanted it. Oh, sure, yeah, he would do absolutely _anything _for the throne. Like you wouldn't have to be a dope to believe something like that.

Yeah, a dope like me. How I so desperately wish I could believe what Zira tells me — "Scar was witty and demanding. He wanted the throne, and he got it. And he was the best ruler ever."

Unh-hnh. Suuuuure. Yeah, Zira, that's totally leonine and all. As if.

Damn, I'd do anything to get rid of Zira. I always hated how she made me call her, "Mother," and how she pretended that she was indeed mine. My brothers', sure, but not mine.

Zira never belonged to me, nor me to her. I was Nala's girl, from the day I first blinked and let myself into the world.

Oof. A bang.

Death.

I was so young, tiny, but like hell I knew what was happening. I'm not dumb. Scar died. He'd never be a part of me again, that was for sure. Did I care? Well, heaven knows I wanted to. But I can't say I actually did. Not without lying.

He never mattered to me. He never needed to matter to me. I had enough in life already. I had my mother — well, not for long — and a beautiful complexion to live for.

Now, that's been destroyed. I'm ugly, and and my mother was taken away from me. I have to play host to Zira, who most certainly is NOT my mother, and never will be. Fills me with fury and rage, it does, but hell I'm rambling. Who cares but I about my predicament?

That's what I hate about life. No one likes me, I'm just worthless zamani za vita to them. Maybe I'm just zamani za vita to even myself. That name haunts me. I feel like a war-creator, when really I'd do anything to bring world peace.

Scar named me. Damn, that's what I hate about that madman more than anything. He named me Vitani, for zamani za vita, at the time of war. Bah, what a meaning. At the time of war. Just miraculous it is. Damn Scar, who are you anyway to name your child such a horrifying title?

No one. That's who you are. I have no one for a father. Kivuli, ha, he's no Kivuli! He's just a stupid jerk, nothing to me nor anyone else! Hell, he's dead!

So I gladly stepped to Simba's side. Kiara's statement was my ready-point, it made my final decision to leave my fake mother. I didn't need Zira, I didn't want Zira, I hated Zira.

Good-bye Zira, and good riddance.


End file.
